


i'll be close behind

by stylinshaw



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comforting!Scott, Fluff, Gen, Panic Attacks, Wee!Scott and Stiles, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 03:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylinshaw/pseuds/stylinshaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suddenly, Stiles is still. Not moving. Nothing.</p><p>Alarmed, Scott tries to pull back, but Stiles’ grip on him tightens. “Stiles? Stiles, what is it? Stiles.”</p><p>Stiles slowly moves his face away from Scott’s shoulder, eyes darting around the room quickly. Scott feels sweat seeping through Stiles’ shirt, and then-</p><p>Stiles starts hyperventilating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll be close behind

**Author's Note:**

> I thank wikipedia for [this](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Panic_attack) and [this](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2007_in_video_gaming) because I probably wouldn't have been able to write this without the facts. Yay!!  
> Clarification: Scott and Stiles are both 12 in this.  
> Title: I Will Follow You Into The Dark - DCFC :)  
> Disclaimer: Teen Wolf isn't mine :(  
> Enjoy!! :) <3  
> edit: i fail to mention this is unbetaed and all mistakes are mine :) x  
> 15/09/2014 - Edited for readability!

Scott’s heading over to Stiles’ place. He knows his friend’s been feeling down lately, of course, his mum’s-

Scott refuses to think about it. After all, Mrs. Stilinski-  _Claudia_ , as she told him to call her-was like a second mum to him. He hasn’t seen Stiles smile in a week. And three days. Scott doesn’t think he’s smiled since then either.

As the Stilinski house comes into view, Scott takes in the absence of the familiar jeep in the driveway and Scott really really hopes the Sheriff isn’t drinking his feelings away again.

The window to Stiles’ room is closed but the lights are on, so Scott grabs his backpack before hoisting himself up on the conveniently grown tree right next to Stiles’ window.

He taps on the door four times-it’s their signal, sort of, and it takes almost two minutes (Scott counts) before the window opens, and God, there’s Stiles.

Granted, Scott saw him that day at school barely seven hours ago, but that was seven hours too many. Scott doesn’t ever want to let his best friend out of his sight.

“Scott?” Stiles rubs his eyes, and it’s obvious that he’s not getting enough sleep from the deep bags under his eyes. “What’re you doing here?”

“Let me in,” is all Scott says, and Stiles moves aside without question.

*

“I brought video games,” Scott offers, holding up his shiny DS. Stiles looks up, sending Scott a faint smile before dropping his head into his hands again.

“Stiles,” Scott says despairingly, because he understands, he really, really, does, but he needs Stiles. He can’t lose Stiles.

“Scott,” Stiles sighs, and Scott stares at him.

Stiles stares back for all of five seconds before he’s bursting into tears.

“Stiles?” Panicked, Scott quickly moves over to his friend. “Stiles, oh my god, _Stiles_.”

“She’s gone,” Stiles wails. Scott feels like he’s going to cry too, but he focuses on Stiles. Moving closer, he cautiously wraps his arms around the older boy, feeling Stiles wrench his hands into his shirt immediately.

Scott pats Stiles’ back. “Yeah, but remember how much pain she was in?” Stiles buries his face into Scott’s shirt. “Stiles, she’s in a better place now. She’s not in pain.”

Stiles twists Scott’s shirt in his grip and honestly, Scott’s beginning to worry Stiles might tear his shirt. He doesn’t really care, though.

“But,” Stiles whispers. “She’s-“

Suddenly, Stiles is still. Not moving. Nothing.

Alarmed, Scott tries to pull back, but Stiles’ grip on him tightens. “Stiles? Stiles, what is it? _Stiles._ ”

Stiles slowly moves his face away from Scott’s shoulder, eyes darting around the room quickly. Scott feels sweat seeping through Stiles’ shirt, and then-

Stiles starts hyperventilating.

“Oh my god,” Scott stares at Stiles for about ten seconds. “Oh my god.”

“I-“ Stiles looks like he’s drowning. His breathing is coming in shallow pants, faster, faster, _faster-_

“Panic attack!” Stiles chokes out, and obviously, Stiles would know what’s happening, Stiles always knows what’s happening.

Panic attack. Scott’s best friend is having a panic attack.

“What do I do?” Scott cries. He grasps Stiles’ shoulders-oh god, so clammy-and shakes him slightly. Stiles wipes his forehead, and his breathing Is so, so fast-

Scott remembers his mum coming home from a double shift one night, telling him about someone who freaked out and she got him to _control his breathing._

“Stiles,” Scott says loudly, his voice ringing with a tone of finality he never knew he could produce before. “Stiles, look at me.”

Stiles looks up at him, and Scott feels tears building up in the corners of his eyes. He has to help. Stiles is his best friend, his _brother._

“Stiles, you need to control your breathing, alright?” Scott says, and he doesn’t know how he sounds so calm, really. “Count with me?”

Stiles nods, gasping.

“One.”

Stiles looks a little like a fish, Scott thinks, gulping for air, for life-

Get a grip, McCall, he scolds himself.

“Two. Three,” Scott moves his fingers along Stiles' back, not quite knowing what he’s doing-massaging?-he doesn’t know. Stiles seems to be getting some control back, though, so Scott’s guessing whatever he’s doing is working.

“Four.”

And Stiles looks paler than usual, helpless, lost, like a scared little child and he’s older than Scott but he sure doesn’t look it. Scott sort of wants to wrap him up and never let him go.

God, there are the tears again, leaking out of his eyes, down his face. Scott catches Stiles’ wide eyes and gives his friend a reassuring squeeze.

“Five, six.”

Stiles is still trembling, but his breathing is slowing down and some of the colour is coming back to his cheeks. Scott’s beginning to consider this a success, even though he’s openly crying.

It’s not like Stiles _cares,_ anyway.

“Seven, eight,” Scott feels like they’re both in kindergarten again, learning the numbers and alphabet and Scott’s thinking of Claudia again.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath before opening them and staring straight into Stiles’ hazel eyes.

“Nine.”

Stiles is almost back to normal now, as if he’s just going to grab Scott’s DS and play Super Mario or something.

His face is open, unguarded, and Scott really, truly sees the emotions Stiles has been bottling up for the past week.

Fear, grief, confusion, sadness.

“Stiles,” Scott whispers. “It’s going to be alright, okay?”

Stiles nods, looking so tired and worn out and is this boy really twelve years old?

“I’ll always be right here.”

Stiles looks like he’s going to cry, and Scott sniffles-there’s no better word-before hugging his best friend tightly.

Stiles’ arms wrap around his midsection. “Scotty?” Stiles says quietly, and Scott’s the one burying his face into Stiles’ shirt this time. He feels emotionally, mentally, physically drained.

“Yeah?” Scott hums into Stiles’ shoulder. He hopes this never changes, he hopes he and Stiles will always be friends and Scott won’t ever let Stiles go through something like this alone.

“Ten.”

Stiles’ voice is raspy when he says the final number-Scott’s forgotten, but it the word hangs heavy in the room.

“Thank you,” Stiles squeezes Scott and Scott-Scott squeezes back.

 

**Author's Note:**

> come be friends with me at my [tumblr](http://padaledcki.tumblr.com)  
> ♡


End file.
